Dark Reflection in a Shattered Mirror
by KrystalBlaze - Jerikor
Summary: When Obi-Wan is banished to a prison world for a crime he did not commit, he is surprised to find two people he never expected - Xanatos Lyrisis, Qui-Gon's former Dark apprentice, and a mysterious Jedi called Sifo-Dyas. -Updated 9-11 -
1. Prolouge

**Title: **Dark Reflection in a Shattered Mirror****

**Summary: **When Obi-Wan is banished to a prison world for a crime he did not commit on his first solo mission, he is surprised to find two people he never expected to see – Xanatos Lyrisis, Qui-Gon's former Dark apprentice, and a mysterious Jedi Master called Sifo-Dyas.

**Author:** KrystalBlaze

**Author Notes:**

Well, let's see. Hmm… what can I say? This fic is based off a plot bunny given to me by **Jane Jinn. **I know a couple (or the 163 who left reviews) of you are going to be mad at me for not finishing **Breathe, **but what can I say? It's in a coma right now. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one. I'm having a blast writing it. Thanks, and please review. They make my day!

**Author thanks:**

Jane Jinn, for the plot bunny; and my sister Jerikor for giving me her thoughts; and the Handmaidens, for no other reason except they chat with me when I need it. ;)

**Dark Reflection in a Shattered Mirror**   
  
**_Prologue_**   
  
When the prisoner was led through the door at the far end of the High Royal courtroom, he was not dressed in the clothes those frequent in the courtroom were accustomed to seeing. Rather than donning the normal gray prisoner garb, the man was dressed completely in black. His pants, his shirt, his cloak, and his boots- they were all black. Even his hair was black, and his eyes, though midnight blue, appeared black in contrast to his shock white skin. The only thing in contrast with the bleak picture the prisoner presented was the cobalt silver collar around his neck.   
  
The talking had died once he entered the room, and they did not make a sound as the guards escorted the prisoner past the High Council to sit at the oak table.   
  
The courtroom was not packed; rather it was bare and empty. Besides the prisoner, only the ten High Council members, two of the guards, and a handful of law students were present. The masses were not allowed in when a prisoner of such high crimes was presented before the court. And even if they had been allowed, they would have known the outcome before they crossed the threshold: this man would not be leaving.   
  
The prisoner sat stonily, staring at the High Council with no emotion in his eyes. They stared back at him, unflinching. His crimes were the worst a being could commit. He would pay dearly for what he had done to them to their world. He had unsettled the balance of everything.   
  
"Prisoner," one of the Council members said, standing. "The crimes have been brought before you already, and you did not deny them."   
  
"Of course I did not deny them," the prisoner replied, his voice such a low purr they had to strain to hear the words. "I would not deny something I did not know was a crime."   
  
The Council member, a woman, sneered. "You were told the rules of our world before you stepped foot on it. All registered transports have been instructed to tell you the rules. You should not even have come knowing what you are."   
  
The prisoner said nothing.   
  
"The High Council of Yanari has determined your fate. You will be sentenced to ex-death. We do not believe in the death penalty."   
  
The prisoner raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't know what ex-death is, Councilor."   
  
She smiled again. "Ex-death is not death. You do not need to know anymore. Rest assured, though, you will not be killed. We do not believe in such a thing."   
  
The prisoner stood, and immediately the two guards rushed over to him. "You will tell me my punishment, Councilor. You have no right to not tell me. I have every right to know what awaits me once I leave this room."   
  
The Councilor stared at the young man, unnerved by the way his voice had remained calm during the entire duration of his sentence. The others before him had put up fights to shake the fires of Denatra. She looked back at her fellow council members, who were glaring at the young man.   
  
"Ex-death," she said, "is not death. You will be taken to Finistra, a world of criminals like yourself. There you will stay for the rest of your life."   
  
Nothing changed in the man's demeanor. "You're telling me, Councilor, I am being banished from your world for a crime I did not commit?"   
  
Her eyes hardened. "Oh, no, sir. We know you committed crime. Otherwise, we would not send you there. That is all. You will be given your weapon and nothing more. We are a fair people. You brought the sword with you when you came, and it is not ours to take. Be warned, prisoner, there are guards there. Be warned that you will not be able to contact any person. Finistra is a place well out of the way and protected by things you will not know of. No one will find you there."   
  
The only thing about his demeanor that changed was the eyes. They flashed in an anger so intense all the High Council members shivered. The woman let the moment pass, gaining back her voice and struggling not to look into the man's eyes and see that hatred that clearly shone. She took a breath.   
  
"The High Council of Yanari are fair people. The Yanari government has such passed judgment upon you, prisoner. You have been sentenced thus by this Council and your sentence will henceforth be carried out. Throughout this trial-" the man snorted "- we have refrained from any discrimination by not taking your name nor heritage. You will give us your home world."   
  
The man raised his head proudly. "Telos."   
  
"You will now give us your name."   
  
The man looked loathed to do the thing she asked, but after a moment he spoke. "Xanatos Lyrisis."   
  
She clasped her hands together.   
  
"Then it is done."

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	2. Part One

**Disclaimer- **All recognizable character and setting belong to LucasFilms or any company from there. In short, Lucas owns all.

**Dark Reflection in a Shattered Mirror**

**By: **KrystalBlaze

**Reviews at end of chapter.**

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**Part One**   
  
The chow hall, as usual, was filled with the noisy din of students and Knights alike. Obi-Wan picked up his tray at the end of the food line and moved through it, scanning the hall for any sign of friends. He would have liked to eat with Master Qui-Gon, but he was currently being briefed by the Council for… something. Qui-Gon did not know what. It had to be important, though: the Council usually did not meet with anyone around the evening meal. Obi-Wan hoped they weren't sending them on another mission; they'd just gotten back from one two weeks ago.   
  
Obi-Wan collected his food after thanking the cook graciously, and set about trying to find a place to sit. He had heard Bant and Reeft were in the Temple, but he wasn't sure. He was about to sit down next to Siri Tachi when he saw Bant jumping up and down, waving to him. He smiled and went over, hugging her before he sat down. Reeft and Garen smiled up at him.   
  
"So, hey," Garen said as Obi-Wan passed Reeft his bread roll before he could be asked. "What are you doing back here?"   
  
Obi-Wan smiled. "I could ask the same thing of you. Unlike you, Mr. Hotshot, I'm usually here once a month."   
  
"Oh, be quiet," Garen said. "I'm here more than you are, and you know it."   
  
"You are not!" Obi-Wan replied. "You're here for months at a time, and _then_ you have a big mission that takes months. I manage to get in here every three weeks or so, so we even out." He purposefully turned to Bant. "And how are you?"   
  
"Brilliant, as usual," she said dryly. "Unfortunately, I'll be here for two months. Master Fitso has been taken out of commission for his two broken legs." She shrugged off their words of sympathy. "I'm hoping the Council will send me on some form of mission while he recovers. I can't stand being here for two months."   
  
Ever since the death of her first master years ago, Bant had become more restless and aggressive. Although she would always be the same Bant Eerin, something about her demeanor had changed. She was more grown-up, more able to harmful situations. At first, Obi-Wan had been worried about her, but he had come to understand it was her way of coping with her grief, and he had accepted it.   
  
"Hopefully I'll be staying a while," Reeft said. "I'm getting tired of this running around."   
  
Garen laughed. "But it's an adventure, Reeft! It's fun."   
  
"Oh, yes, it's fun," Reeft said, taking Garen's fruit. "But it's also fun to come home."   
  
Bant smirked. "To have fun, a Jedi must not."   
  
"Quote Master Yoda in such a way, you should not," Obi-Wan said, picking up his own fruit and taking a bite. "Disrespectful, it is."   
  
"Although funny, I find it," Garen continued, surrendering his tray to Reeft. "Honestly, Reeft, how can you eat two meals and still be as slim as a twig? I don't understand it."   
  
At that, Reeft only smiled and continued to eat.   
  
There was silence as Garen watched his three friends eat. He grinned. "You, on the other hand, Obi-Wan, seem to have grown. I believe you need a haircut." He patted the lightsaber on his belt. "May I be of some assistance?"   
  
"Be quiet," Obi-Wan informed him. He looked at Bant. "A solo mission? Isn't that usually reserved for those as Senior Level Padawans?"   
  
She nodded. "Yes, it is. Although it wouldn't be a solo mission, not really, maybe more a test mission…" Her face fell as she fully realized what she was saying. "But what else can I do while my Master heals? I'm restless, Obi-Wan. There are so many things I can do while he recovers." Uncertainty came to her face. "I don't think I'm ready, though. I mean… I'm so used to have my Master with me on missions. It will be… hard without him, I guess."   
  
"Agreed," Garen said. He looked at Obi-Wan in interest. "Obi-Wan, you're turning twenty-three in a week, aren't you?"   
  
"Don't remind me," Obi-Wan said, shuddering. "And don't try another surprise party, either. I couldn't go undress in my 'fresher for a week after it."   
  
"Oh, come on, it was fun!" Reeft said.   
  
"My point," Garen said. "Is that you're going to be a Senior Level Padawan, and that means solo missions."   
  
Obi-Wan, who had been expecting this to come up sooner or later, merely nodded. He did not feel the need to say anymore. His feelings matched Bant's: he was scared of going on a mission alone. Even though Qui-Gon had been letting him have the run of missions lately, he still didn't feel completely safe going out without him. It would be… in Bant's words, hard. Qui-Gon was always such a wonderful presence at his back, and he wasn't sure if he could manage without him.   
  
Bant seemed to understand the effect that Garen's words had on him and reached out to touch his arm. "Obi-Wan, I'm sure when the time comes, you'll be ready. The Council would not send you if they don't think you're ready."   
  
Her words comforted him, and he took pleasure in that. He winked at her, acknowledging her kindness. Reeft and Garen had quickly gone onto another tangent, and were talking about fighters. Garen, it seemed, had recently had a run in with a Class A model that chased them through many, many galaxies before running out of fuel and almost crashing into Garen's fighter. He was just getting into the story when Qui-Gon appeared at the entrance to the mess.   
  
Immediately Obi-Wan stood. Garen looked at him, annoyed at first, but when he saw Qui-Gon he smirked. "Oh, Obi-Wan, you're in trouble. Master Qui-Gon knows how much you love to eat, and he wouldn't bother you if it wasn't important."   
  
Obi-Wan picked up his tray and told him politely to shut up. After saying good-bye to his friends and arranging to meet with them the next day, he made his way over to his Master, dumping his tray in the garbage. Qui-Gon looked… apprehensive. If Obi-Wan was honest with himself, he looked worried.   
  
"Hello, Master," he greeted him neutrally.   
  
Qui-Gon smiled at him, and he looked even more worried then. "I'm sorry to take you from your friends, Obi-Wan," he said, "but this is extremely important. We have much to talk about before next week."   
  
Obi-Wan's heart dropped a notch. Qui-Gon looked so worried, and he sounded so grave…   
  
He only hoped the news Qui-Gon carried wouldn't be too bad.   
  
-----------

He was, as usual, wrong.   
  
It was worst.   
  
"A solo mission? But… I'm not twenty-three yet! They can't send me when I'm underage, Master. I'm not ready for a solo mission!"   
  
Despite his worry for his Padawan, Qui-Gon had to smile at his rants. Obi-Wan was sitting on couch in the front room of their living quarters, his head clenched in his hands. However, when the apprentice made a move to pull his hair out was when Qui-Gon decided he needed to step in. Gently, he placed his hand over one of Obi-Wan's and guided it away from his ginger locks. Obi-Wan looked up, startled.   
  
"Master… you put them up to it, didn't you?"   
  
At that Qui-Gon laughed out loud and sat next to Obi-Wan on the couch. "Obi-Wan… never would I think to even _suggest_ for you to go on a solo mission because I knew you would act like this. However, the Council has faith in your abilities, as do I. Yes, you are not yet twenty-three. However, you will turn that age next week, which I think is close enough in letting you go."   
  
"But, Master… I don't know anything!"   
  
"Oh, Obi-Wan, I'm sure you'll do fine," Qui-Gon said. He patted his apprentice on the back. "Never, Obi-Wan, would the Council send you out if they did not think you were ready. You need to have faith in your abilities, in the Force. You can't go wrong there."   
  
"Yes, but only there," Obi-Wan breathed. He stood abruptly and looked at Qui-Gon, abashed. "Master, I apologize for my behavior. It is not becoming of a Jedi, and I apologize for it."   
  
Qui-Gon smiled at him. "Padawan, it's all right. A first mission, if I remember correctly, can be extremely difficult. However, there is no need to pull out your hair with worry. Everything will be fine if you listen to the Force. Now, would you like to know the details of the mission, or do I need to strap you down before you hyperventilate again?"   
  
Obi-Wan laughed easily, sliding back into his spot by Qui-Gon's side. He willed himself to be still, to keep his mind on the present. His insides were somersaulting over each other in a much disorganized kata. They were sending him on his first solo mission. Hadn't his friends just been talking about this at evening meal? It was beyond weird, it was downright creepy.   
  
"This is Level One clearance, Padawan," Qui-Gon said seriously, all traces of joking erased from his features. His clear eyes were sharp and stern. Obi-Wan knew what Level One clearance was: undercover work. He felt his breath catch in his throat. "You cannot, in small terms, discuss this with anyone outside the Council and myself. This request comes directly from the Supreme Chancellor himself."   
  
Obi-Wan's insides pushed the ante a little.   
  
"Okay, then. The world you will be sent to is called Yanari; it's in the Middle Rim. The Republic is very concerned with the happenings on Yanari. Although the planet is officially part of the Republic, they have not elected Senators, nor have they had any contact with Coruscant for quite some time. The Republic was concerned, naturally, and sent an emissary to meet with the world leaders. However, the emissary never returned, and when the Republic sent an inquiry committee, the two people never returned. Yanari denied they even showed up.   
  
"The Republic is very concerned. They do not wish to send any more people to Yanari under the Republic name because they are afraid of losing them. They sent their own undercover force, but when they returned, they were on the brink of madness. It seemed the Yanarians do not take kindly to undercover people, nor do they care of Republic meddling."   
  
"But they are part of the Republic," Obi-Wan said in question. "Why would they not welcome the Republic?"   
  
"In short," Qui-Gon said grimly, "they are threatening to break away from the Republic. The Senate fears this greatly. There are worlds, of course, who refuse to be part of the Republic, and the Senate is fine with that. However, a planet breaking away is something they cannot tolerate. Do you know why?"   
  
Obi-Wan thought a moment. "Yes. If Yanari breaks away, what's to say no other world will do the same? Yanari will set off a chain reaction that could very possibly result in war. What if the separate world were to form their own coalition? They could match the Republic's strength."   
  
"Exactly," Qui-Gon confirmed. "And the Senate cannot allow that. Supreme Chancellor Valorum wants to know what happened to the emissary and the inquiry committee. They had comlinks with them. Why not contact the Republic? Yanari does not have regular contact with outside world, thus they have not shown any threat of war. However, this is an act of aggression by sending a Republic task force home on the brink of madness and giving no indication they even received the first three officials."   
  
Obi-Wan didn't want to ask the question he was about to, but unease tightened his chest. "How could the task force come back on the brink of madness? What happened to them?"   
  
At that, Qui-Gon reached out and grasped Obi-Wan's shoulder hard. His piercing eyes intensified. "They were discovered and tortured."   
  
Obi-Wan didn't want to shrink back from the news, but it broke over him like a wave. He opened his mouth to say something, to roll back the comment, but Qui-Gon interrupted him. "There is another thing you must be aware of: Yanari does not look kindly upon Force-sensitives. In their eyes, the worst thing of all is a Jedi. They believe them to be the abominations of spirit, and the only Force-sensitive believed to come from that world has since vanished."   
  
Obi-Wan's breath seemed caught in his throat. How could the Jedi send him to a world that had taken three Republic officials and tortured an entire squad to the edge of madness? For his first solo mission! How could they send him to that world, a world that hated Jedi? He broke away from Qui-Gon's grip, shaking his head as he did so.   
  
No. He needed to get a grip on himself. He was a Jedi. He reached inward through the Force, reaching out and firmly grasping his calm center. He needed to stay focused. Qui-Gon was right. If he trusted in the Force and listened to it, he would be fine.   
  
Qui-Gon was surprised to see his grim smile. "Master… please don't look so worried. I seem to have enough to worry about. Now what, exactly, am I going to be doing?"   
  
Qui-Gon grinned at him, although he did not look happy in the slightest. Once again, worry had come into his eyes. He forced cheeriness into his voice. "Your undercover position should be easy enough to maintain. You will have an identity created for you, one with high esteem. The man you are impersonating has a high security record, one you will use to find work on the security squad. Once you are hired by the security squad, you will gather information about the three missing officials. The Chancellor is concerned for them. Their families are worried, and the Republic will sever ties on its own with Yanari once they have been found."   
  
Relief hit Obi-Wan's heart. He knew the mission would still be a tough one, but it could be worst. "So, we're just looking at info gathering? I can handle that."   
  
His Master looked at him sternly. "I know you will be adequate in that area, Padawan, but the most important thing is keeping your cover. If they find out who are a Jedi sent by the Republic to spy on them… I don't know what they will do to you."   
  
Although the words were spoken seriously and without a trace of emotion, Obi-Wan felt the fear in his Master's voice, and he felt it in his heart. He was afraid. He had to push it away, though. He had to be a Jedi, now. Jedi did not feel fear. He cleared his throat.   
  
"Master, I think I can manage blending in for two weeks or so," Obi-Wan said, flashing a smile. "I have so much charm it'll be impossible to resist."   
  
Qui-Gon laughed genuinely this time. "Obi-Wan, it is your charm that will be your downfall. Do not get too friendly with the locals. I know you have this impossible knack for attracting friends."   
  
"I'm just a friendly person," Obi-Wan said. He could feel the tension under the surface of his words, and when they both felt silent, Obi-Wan knew what his Master was thinking of. He didn't know what to say, or how to prepare himself. He could feel Qui-Gon struggling to search for something to say, and that alarmed him. Qui-Gon always knew what to say.   
  
His Master was _worried_ for him.   
  
Obi-Wan knew his Master loved him, and he loved Qui-Gon, but it scared him when Qui-Gon worried. Qui-Gon rarely thought of danger; rather he knew Obi-Wan's nature and let him delve into it. He had never for one second thought his Master ever pondered the meaning of Obi-Wan in danger. They were companions and partners, and that position did not require thought on Qui-Gon's part of Obi-Wan in danger.   
  
_Oh, Obi-Wan, you idiot. Of course he cared for you._   
  
Warmth rushed through his body. His Master did care for him. He didn't know why he would think of such a thing now, but he did, and he loved the feeling it gave him, even if it was to be expected.   
  
Qui-Gon had finally found words. "Padawan, I know this will be a hard mission, which is why the Council requested my presence this evening. They asked if you were ready in my eyes, and I told them yes, no matter my worry for you. I know you can do this, Obi-Wan. You have proved to me time and time again your abilities and I have no doubt in them."   
  
Obi-Wan smiled at him. "Thank you, Master. Your confidence means so much to me. I will not let you down."   
  
The Master smiled. "I never thought you would."   
  
Obi-Wan stood. "So, when do I leave?"   
  
"Next week," Qui-Gon said. "There are arrangements yet to be made. Do you have questions right now, though?"   
  
Obi-Wan recalled Qui-Gon's words, going over them in his mind. He could not think of anything. Qui-Gon had been frank in the way only Qui-Gon had been frank, and there was no need for questions. He knew what need to be done, and that was enough. Still, his mind lingered on something Qui-Gon had said, something that shouldn't have been important…   
  
"Who was the Jedi from Yanari that vanished?" he asked, wondering why the question was so important him. He felt the Force flowing through him, warning him of things that would come. Something was important in that question, he knew.   
  
Qui-Gon looked surprised, but did not ask questions. His answer was short and simple, and made Obi-Wan's urging on the question no clearer.   
  
"Master Sifo-Dyas."   
  
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**Thank you for the reviews! Sorry if that was too winded for you. It had a lot of info in a little space. Thank you for reading this far! **

**Kenobisagt****- **Well, hello and welcome to the fic. Interesting, I daresay? says Drat…

**LuvEwan****- **Hello again. ;) I'm glad you liked Xanatos. I never used to like him… but now I do! "Breathe" bugs me. I just cannot understand why people like it. I started it when I was thirteen, and I really think that shows in the writing, which makes it, in my POV, a bad fic. Blah. Anyhow, thank you for the review on THIS story and I hope you stick with it.

**Stranded Stargazer – **First off, love the name. And secondly, thank you for staying with the story. J


	3. Part Two

**Disclaimer- **All recognizable character and settings belong to LucasFilms or any company from there. In short, Lucas owns all.

**Dark Reflection in a Shattered Mirror**

**By: **KrystalBlaze

**Reviews at end of chapter.**

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**Part Two**   
  
_Master Sifo-Dyas._   
  
_Why_ was the name bugging him so? Or rather not the name, but the presence of the being that possessed the name. He could not recall ever meeting anyone of the name Sifo-Dyas, yet every nerve end tingled when he thought of him. It wasn't so much the thought of actually having met the Master before, but more a feeling of premonition, as if he would be meeting him, and he would matter in the near future.   
  
But that was implausible, though. Some Jedi, he knew, were prone to visions, although they knew it would be difficult to trust them. Visions were not solid, thus could not be probed and seen. The Jedi did not trust them as such. Obi-Wan himself had never in his entire life even received an inkling of events that would happen more than days in advance. The pressure of this feeling startled him, and he struggled to place a finger on why it was bothering him.   
  
He left his quarters early, just before dawn. Qui-Gon, of course, had been up, and had favored him with condescending eyes as Obi-Wan walked out of their apartment silently. Obi-Wan was happy for the silence; he had much to think about. He went to the Room a Thousand Fountains, unsurprised to see it completely empty save for Yoda, who sat meditating on his favorite bench.   
  
Obi-Wan made care to not disturb the ancient Master, choosing a spot near the other entrance of the Room. He sat for a moment, basking in the smell of grass and the hum of the waterfall as it roared down into the lake. He smiled, remembering the times he had spent here, in this room, in this spot. This was Bant's favorite spot because it was three meters or so above the lake, giving her a high diving point, and there was nothing more she loved more than that.   
  
Thinking of his friends, he sighed. He would be leaving next week, and the days before then would be full of preparation for the mission ahead. He would have so little time with his friends, and he rarely had them all together anymore these days. Bant and her master were recognized for their skill in diplomacy and worlds asked for them specifically. Garen and Clee Rhara were top pilots in the Jedi flight programs and were often called to fly Jedi to and fro when the circumstances were dangerous. And Reeft with his Master were always gone, too: they were a regular Master-Padawan team, but being thus called them away for long periods of time.   
  
His good friends were soaring onto bigger and better things, and Obi-Wan found himself missing the moments of their childhood, when things were so simple and they could play the days away. He would miss them all so very much when he left. Who knew when they would all be together again?   
  
_Oh, just stop it. The Jedi path is a hard one, and you know this._   
  
He could not, however, stop the sigh that escaped from his lips as he thought about it.   
  
"Troubles you, something does, Padawan Kenobi?" a gnarled voice asked from behind him.   
  
Quickly dropping out thought, Obi-Wan jumped to his feet and bowed before Yoda. "Good morning, Master. I hope you are well?"   
  
Yoda laughed. "Well, I am. But you, Padawan Kenobi, what troubles you?"   
  
Obi-Wan appreciated the Jedi Master's insights into his thought; however, he did not want to be intruded right now. He still needed time to think about the mission ahead, and struggle to put a name on the tension inside him. It was not a paralyzing fear, no. Qui-Gon had helped him set aside the fear yesterday; however, he felt a rising anxiety seep within him. He was not afraid for his health or anything of the sort. Jedi were not afraid of such things. But the thought of being away from Qui-Gon and possibly failing, and the constant uneasiness within him… _that_ frightened him.   
  
_Something_ was going to happen.   
  
"Master Yoda, I am troubled with thoughts of my mission," he said finally.   
  
"Ah," Yoda replied, smiling. "Thought that, I did. A walk, will you take with me?"   
  
"Of course," Obi-Wan said at once. No matter what he was feeling now, a session with Yoda always left him with new things learned, and he came away revering the wizened Jedi even more.   
  
They set on the path that would lead them to west corridor exit in silence. They were halfway to the exit before Yoda spoke, his voice grave. "Young Kenobi, send you on this mission we would not if ready you were not."   
  
Surprised, Obi-Wan turned to look at the Master. "Master, I know you would never-"   
  
"Ah, yes," Yoda interrupted. "Your fears on that matter, has Qui-Gon put to rest? Hmm?"   
  
Obi-Wan did not say anything, and he wondered how Yoda had driven to the root of the problem so quickly. Because although Obi-Wan's head told him he was ready for the mission, that if he just kept his head and listened to the Force, his heart refused to believe it and still held onto Qui-Gon with childish strength. He nodded slightly. That, above everything else, was the very core of the problem: Obi-Wan deep worry of how he would do without Qui-Gon.   
  
"Hmm. Realize, the Council does, how hard this mission will be. Believe, we do, in your abilities."   
  
It was all the Master said, but it filled Obi-Wan with strength. He now had Yoda's belief in him along with Qui-Gon's, and that made the ball of tension in the pit of his stomach loosened its hold a notch. He smiled at Yoda, now, relief in his heart, although a little voice in the back of his head began to scream at him.   
  
_Yes, you have the Council's blessings. But how will that help you?_   
  
Obi-Wan decided then he would know nothing until he actually _knew_ something.   
  
"Master Yoda," he said. "Who is Master Sifo-Dyas?"   
  
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"Master Sifo-Dyas? Why in the galaxies do you want to know about him?" Jocasta Nu's voice was rough and startled.   
  
It intrigued Obi-Wan at her reaction. When he had asked Master Yoda about the man, the answer he had received was one of sadness, framed by two simple words: _"He left."_ There was such sadness in Yoda's tone Obi-Wan had decided not to pry any further into the old Master's thought, choosing instead to search the Temple Archives.   
  
"It is for a mission," he said carefully, aware of his Master's words to him the night before.   
  
She regarded him with a wary eye. "Ah, yes. I heard the Council had passed you for Senior Level status. You have my acknowledgement." Without another a word, she beckoned him to follow her down a row holo-books to the shelf. She turned and motioned to the bust sitting on a stand. "This," she said shortly, "is Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas."   
  
Obi-Wan turned his attention to studying the details of the bust. As every other one in the Archives, the statue was well polished and the details were remarkable. Sifo-Dyas appeared to be an older human male, possibly a little older than Qui-Gon. His eyes, even in stone, were sharp and focused, his hair lank on his head. He could not tell the color, of course, but he imagined the eye ice blue, like Qui-Gon's. Even in stone, Sifo-Dyas was a remarkable figure, one who gave off the aura of power and comfort. The way he reminded Obi-Wan of Qui-Gon was astonishing.   
  
Jocasta saw his stunned eyes and chuckled. "Oh, yes, he does remind you of Master Jinn, doesn't he?" She shrugged her shoulders and spoke before Obi-Wan could ask. "Master Sifo-Dyas left the Jedi Order two years ago on a mission only the Council knows of. No one else was ever told. About a year ago the Council decided he would not be coming back, and requested his bust be placed here. They believe he deserved it, because although he might have left the Jedi – there were rumors, you understand – he did many great things while he here, and for all we know he may have died on a mission."   
  
He examined her eyes, and saw the sadness she was trying to hide. She saw his clear eyes focused on hers, and Obi-Wan thought she would reprimand him, but she only said, "Master Sifo-Dyas was a friend of mine, Padawan Kenobi. His departure hurt me, if you must know. His departure hurt many. He inspired loyalty and kindness. The Jedi were hurt by the loss of one so fine. He was a wonderful pilot, and trained Clee Rhara and Even Piell, who I'm sure you know."   
  
She did not speak, and Obi-Wan did not pry. None of the words rang any meaning in his heart, yet the name still caused a ball of apprehension to knot in his stomach. Why did he feel it so clearly? His mind began to jump off the walls.   
  
"Madame," he asked, "Was Master Dyas's home world Yanari?"   
  
She stiffened. "Yes," she said sharply. "And I would suggest not digging around there, Padawan Kenobi. They do not welcome Jedi. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." She left quickly down the row of books she had led Obi-Wan through.   
  
He stood for a long time in that spot, staring at the bust of Sifo-Dyas. Sifo-Dyas was a Jedi Master who had gone on a mission and never returned. He was borne of Yanari, the planet Obi-Wan would be sent to shortly, and he had vanished. Did it mean anything? Qui-Gon's voice had not wavered in any sense when he had spoken of a Jedi vanishing. What did it matter? Obi-Wan decided it had to be nerves. If he was being sent to any other planet besides Yanari, he would still be nervous and looking for any discrepancy in the mission ahead.   
  
Sifo-Dyas did not matter.   
  
Then why in the stars did the name make his stomach tie in knots?   
  
-----------   
  
Obi-Wan met his friends in the Room of a Thousand Fountains as planned. He was fully prepared to tell them the moment he got there, but there was no need. He didn't know how, but word had gotten out he would soon be on his first solo mission, and they attacked him the moment he came through the door.   
  
"Brilliant, Obi-Wan!" Garen said, wringing his hand. Reeft pounded him on the back and Bant hugged him, laughing.   
  
"Oh, stop it," Obi-Wan said, although he was grinning. They collapsed onto the grass. "It's nothing big, guys, honestly. We knew it was going to happen sooner or later."   
  
"But we were just talking about," Bant said. "That's the thing that makes it so… awe striking."   
  
"Can you tell us about it?" Reeft asked, taking from his pack a muja fruit.   
  
He sobered as the meaning of the question sank into him. No, he couldn't tell them. He realized just how high stakes the mission was. "It's Level One classification."   
  
They stopped talking, and Bant's mouth fell open. Reeft dropped his muja back into his pack, and Garen laughed uncertainly. When Obi-Wan did not contradict the laugh, Garen asked weakly, "You're sure?"   
  
This time Obi-Wan laughed. "Yes, Garen, I'm positive."   
  
Reeft said softly, "wow." He picked up his fruit and began to eat, feeling the matter was laid to rest.   
  
Bant looked scared. "Obi-Wan… I know you're ready, but isn't it a big thing for the Council to place this on you now?"   
  
He found himself nodding. "I guess so. Master Qui-Gon thinks I am ready, and I will go with what he tells me, since everything I think of otherwise leaves me feeling faint." He smiled at her worried look, hoping to chase it away. When it did not flee, he sighed. "Bant, I know it will be tough mission, but I'm sure if you have a little faith in me, I'll do fine."   
  
She looked defensive. "Of course I have faith in you! I'm worried, is all."   
  
He reached out and took her hand. "Oh, Bant, don't worry for me. I'm worried enough for all of us."   
  
-----------

**LE – **I disagree with you, but thanks for the support for "Breathe." –smile- Thank you for the well thought out reviews. I love those. –more smiles- I'm really glad you're sticking with the story. It makes my day.

**Kenobisagt**** – **Well, did you like the update? Thanks for the review.

**Stranded Stargazer – **Hey, a good name deserves recognition. Hopefully this chapter helped link more things together.

**_I'll be gone for a week starting tomorrow. Sorry for such the long delay on this post. I've got three more chapters written, so I'll make sure and upload those quickly when I return. Thanks for the reviews thus far. _**


	4. Part Three

**Disclaimer- **All recognizable character and settings belong to LucasFilms or any company from there. In short, Lucas owns all.

**Dark Reflection in a Shattered Mirror**

**By: **KrystalBlaze

**Reviews at end of chapter.**

**A/N: **This is a short part, and I'm sorry about it. Next chapter will be up sooner, I promise.

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**Part Three**  
  
The sun wasn't quite in the middle of the sky when Obi-Wan returned his quarters. Although Garen had been very persistent in his pursuit of a training match with him, Obi-Wan had decided he needed to clear his mind with meditation, and possibly a talk with his Master. However, that did not stop Garen from chasing Obi-Wan down the hall and shouting after him he was a coward. Obi-Wan had smiled dolefully at him, taking his lightsaber hilt and saluting his friend.  
  
He would have liked to stay and battle Garen; the Force only knew how long it had been since their last training together, but he knew he needed the break to calm his mind. Thoughts were tumbling off his mind's walls in so many directions. What he needed was an opportunity to stand back and take a deep look at the events of the days. Meditation would give him that.  
  
Qui-Gon was not in their quarters, and Obi-Wan took no surprise in the fact. Qui-Gon had others things to do besides wait for his Padawan to return home. Obi-Wan felt guilty about not contacting his Master the entire day, but shook it off. Qui-Gon would understand Obi-Wan's need for privacy.  
  
He went immediately to his room, shrugging off his cloak and then sitting cross-legged in the center of his room. Meditation would clear his mind. He needed clarity to calm the raging in his head. _Who_ was Master Sifo-Dyas, and _why_ was it aggravating him so? In the years he had spent as Qui-Gon's apprentice, he had met many people, both loyal and traitorous. None of them had ever given him a case of the head chills as badly as Sifo-Dyas, and he was a _Jedi._ So _what_ if he came from Yanari? That did not add up to his terrible paranoia of it.  
  
He scolded himself. He needed to focus. He took a deep, even breath and drew his thoughts inward towards his heart, summing up his fears of the mission and his fear of failure. He allowed himself to feel it, to want to ache with the force of it all, and then breathe again. The tension relaxed, guiding him to a place in his mind where the fear would not touch, and there was only he and his thoughts.  
  
_Master Sifo-Dyas._  
  
He meditated.  
  
-----------  
  
_There was a drawing evil from the name, a kind of power that radiated not from the name, but from far away. It reached towards him, and he drew away, struggling not to be touched. He had been touched before by that raw power, and he could not allow it to continue and handle his ragged mind. The evil had to be tamed.  
  
He left the darkened corridor, reaching for the handle of the door to open it. It was locked. He kicked it, the noise a buzzing in his ears. He stared for a moment at the door, examining the handle. It was pure gold, and when he touched it again it hurt his hands. He looked at them, amazed, and then behind him. He saw the evil, a dark red jet of light extending towards him.  
  
He had to get away from it, from everything.  
  
He turned back to the door._  
  
-----------  
  
Qui-Gon was back when Obi-Wan resurfaced from his meditation. Startled, Obi-wan gazed out his window at the sinking sun. How _long_ had he been in meditation? What, in fact, had it done for him? He stood, his mind still holding onto the last remnants of the dark corridor. What had that meant? Obi-Wan knew enough about his mind and the way of the Force to know it was speaking in metaphors, but he still had no idea what it meant.  
  
He felt refreshed, now, even though he was still without a clue. _That_ was what the meditation had done for him. The corridor left him with a raw, tingling feeling that seemed foreign in his body, but it did not startle him. That surprised him. He had been walking around with a name in his head, and _that_ had frustrated him to death, but now, with the black corridor and electrifying light, he felt very little.  
  
What did it mean?  
  
Qui-Gon was looking over a holopad when Obi-Wan stepped out of his room into the living space. Qui-Gon graced him with a smile. "How was your day, Padawan? Hopefully, it was quite busy. When did you get back?"  
  
Obi-Wan walked over to furniture and threw himself into his chair. He faced Qui-Gon. "Master, I got back right before the midday meal."  
  
Astonishment registered on Qui-Gon's face. "I went out to help Master Eotal teach a class." He looked thoughtful. "I came back just after the midday meal, and I thought you were still out. Have you been meditating this entire time in your room?"  
  
At Obi-Wan's nod, a weary smile spread on Qui-Gon's face. "And did it help you?"  
  
Obi-Wan had to think about that. Yes, he felt refreshed, but his musings on Sifo-Dyas had not been eased; rather he was now faced with the image of a long, dark corridor, and a sinister red light blinking towards him. "No, Master, it did not."  
  
His Master tossed his holopad on the floor. "Anything I can help you with? I assume your frustration has to do with your mission."  
  
"Yes, Master." He gathered his thoughts in his head, wondering how Qui-Gon could help him. "Did you know Master Sifo-Dyas?"  
  
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, seemingly in a battle of wills with himself. Obi-Wan watched his Master calmly, although he was intrigued by the struggle. Qui-Gon obviously _had_ met with the Jedi Master before, and knew something about him.  
  
"Yes, I did," Qui-Gon said finally. "What I am going to tell you will never leave this room. The Council wishes no one to know about it, but I see now that you must. I think they were planning on telling you anyway. I will inform them of our discussion."  
  
Obi-Wan sat up straighter despite himself.  
  
"Sifo-Dyas was a friend of mine, back when we were both Padawan Learners. He was older than I, but that never tarnished our relationship. He was Knighted around the time as I. He was smart and kind, and went onto train two wonderful people. Anyhow, we lost contact over the years; with the travel a Jedi Knight is required. Two years ago the Council sent him on an unauthorized mission to Yanari."  
  
This time Obi-Wan had to stop himself from jerking. "But, Master, I thought… I was under the impression I would be the first Jedi sent to Yanari. Isn't Sifo-Dyas, then, important? Why was the mission unauthorized?"  
  
Qui-Gon favored his apprentice with a tired look. "I am sorry for withholding information from you, Obi-Wan. Yes, I thought it would be important, but I was not sure the Council was ready for you to know. However, _I_ think you are ready to know."  
  
He waited for another outburst from Obi-Wan, but when one did not come, he nodded slightly. "The mission did not come from the minds of the Council. Sifo-Dyas knew his home world, of course, and had heard of the misfortunes that had plagued the world. By that time, the emissary was already lost. Sifo-Dyas was concerned. You must know, Padawan, Master Sifo-Dyas was a caring person. He could not walk away from his home world when it was in need, even if it was Yanari. He was well-aware of the fact they did not welcome Jedi.  
  
"He requested to investigate. The Council spent many days in meditation about the fact, because even though they were not asked specifically by Yanari to investigate, many of them were concerned and moved by Sifo-Dyas's obvious love of his home world- especially Even Piell, his former apprentice. It was decided, however, Sifo-Dyas had a conflict of interest. He was too caught up with his world. He was a very compassionate and moving person. They did not forbid him to go, but they did not sanction it. He left for Yanari, and I do not believe he ever contacted anyone again."  
  
Obi-Wan stared at him, mind fumbling. This was why the name Sifo-Dyas had been with him. All Force-sensitives were connected through the Force, and of course Sifo-Dyas's plight would end up in his mind. It was only logical. He fought the relieved grin off his face. Now, maybe, he could live without the air of tension in his head.  
  
"You believe he was lost to the Yanarians like the emissary?" Obi-Wan asked. "That they discovered him and possibly murdered him? Madame Jocasta Nu showed me his bust in the Archives. Why would the Council hold him in such high esteem if they did not agree with his reason for leaving?"  
  
Qui-Gon leaned back in the sleep-couch. "Master Sifo-Dyas was a renowned Jedi. He was an excellent pilot, and his diplomatic skills had stopped many worlds from warring. He often followed his heart rather than his mind, but that often proved to be the thing to do. He was an exemplary Jedi, and the Council feels indebted to him for his many contributions. A Jedi is often remembered more for his achievements rather than his failures, despite what the rest of the universe believes."  
  
Obi-Wan gathered his feelings together, pushing them into the corner of his mind where he could touch them more easily. He breathed deeply, exhaling his tension and anxiety, bidding rid of the name _Sifo-Dyas_ from the rest of his fears. He did not need to fear the name Sifo-Dyas anymore. Qui-Gon had just put to ease what had been bothering him.  
  
Sifo-Dyas had vanished on his self-proclaimed mission to Yanari. That was reason enough for his feelings on the place, and why the name bothered him. Qui-Gon's presence helped him move past the name and the tension, shifting it from his mind to his heart, where he could let it go. He breathed out, letting the name flow from him and his thoughts.  
  
He was through with Sifo-Dyas. He would go to Yanari and complete his mission, keep an eye out for the Jedi, and leave with that. That was enough. It would be enough.  
  
He looked at Qui-Gon gratefully. That, at least, was one worry he would not have to go through. He had enough worries about this mission as it was.  
  
"Thank you, Master," he said.  
  
-----------  
  
Of all the days he had come to dread in his lifetime, Obi-Wan figured this day ranged with worst. The moment he awoke from his troubled sleep, he had immediately remembered the reason why his stomach felt cramped, and his palms felt clammy. Pulling the sheets tightly around him, he had tried to tell himself the day was false, but of course it was not.  
  
Much had happened in the days following the discovery of why Sifo-Dyas was bothering him. He had gone through a refresher course with Qui-Gon over everything he had ever learned, despite Qui-Gon's amused protests. Obi-Wan winced when he thought of how bothersome he was being.  
  
After that, there had been a short trip to the Council Chambers, where Yoda officially granted him permission to take leave on his mission. There was no ceremony, of course, but each Council Member had taken care to stop him in the corridors or the mess of the Temple to give him encouragement. He had serious doubt anyone but he would ever know how much the encouragement had touched him at the very core of his being.  
  
And still, after that, he had to take a blaster handling case, because he definitely did not have the skills that would be required of the man he was impersonating. Although the persona was fabricated, the Republic had gone to great lengths to make up a man who would return to them their own. Obi-Wan had been head security for three worlds, and had gone through the Coruscant Armed Forces Academy, an elite school in the very lowest levels of Coruscant very few were chosen to attend.  
  
Once he had proved adequate with the blaster, Obi-Wan spent a day trailing one the top security officials of Coruscant, who had given him one look and glanced away, sneering. He had basically abused the young Jedi the entire day, taking him to his security hangouts where the rest of his squad had poked fun at the Jedi in general, and Obi-Wan's braid. It killed him on the inside, but Obi-Wan found it useful. He now knew the jargon and the way to act when arresting criminals, for the man he had followed was good, despite his attitude. His parting words to Obi-Wan had been, "Basically, Jedi kid, take no snak from any rank, and don't ever tell anyone you knew me."  
  
Touching, but true.  
  
Then there was the matter of his braid cutting and hair cut. Obi-Wan had wanted to weep when Qui-Gon gently severed his braid. He could barely find solace in the fact they would reattach it when he returned; he felt naked without it. Obi-Wan had not taken Garen up on his offer to help with the haircut, choosing instead for his Master to trim his hair close cropped style, in the fashion Obi-Wan had seen many of the security officials sporting. One or two modeled flowing hair past the collar, but he would go with the majority on this one.  
  
His birthday had dawned on a rainy day, which Obi-Wan found very ironic. There had been no celebration, as per Jedi custom (the party last year had been a dreadful surprise party involving Bant, Garen, Reeft and a tube of salve that wasn't entirely sanctioned), but Qui-Gon and his friends had wished him a happy birthday. Garen and Reeft had not presented him with gifts, but Bant's had been a fresh basket of muja fruit which Obi-Wan found very thoughtful. He had gone through the reflection required of a Jedi on a birthday, and when he came out of his meditation, Qui-Gon was there with a dagger. He had been very surprised to awake from meditation to find Qui-Gon holding a knife over his head, and despite his shout of surprise, his Master had found it very amusing. They had meditated together, cementing their ten-year partnership.  
  
It was very fulfilling to Obi-Wan, and it made him laugh whenever he thought of the fact that Qui-Gon had put up with him for ten years. So much had happened in that time, but there was still so much to do. He was grateful for his Master's constant presence at his back, as he would always be.  
  
And then his bag was packed, five thousand credits had been handed to him for basic needs, the Council was giving him their departing praise, and Bant was hugging him hard around the neck. He said good-bye to his friends in the Room of a Thousand Fountains an hour before he was set to leave. Bant had taken one look at his pale face and had almost suffocated him in her embrace. Garen had shaken his hand firmly, and Reeft was patting him on the back.  
  
It was time to leave.  
  
He stood on the landing platform with Qui-Gon, his pack clenched so tightly in his hand he decided to drop it. He was still dressed in his Jedi tunics and robes, but the Republic had arranged a good transport which offered a private room where he could change into the garb he and Qui-Gon had purchased from an open market vendor giving a bad deal on good clothes. Nervously, he wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.  
  
Qui-Gon had taken note of his nervousness but had said nothing of the fact. Obi-Wan waited for his Master to speak, to say something, but Qui-Gon remained quiet for the longest time. Five minutes before his transport was due to arrive, his Master spoke.  
  
"You will do good, Obi-Wan. I know the Force will be you. Listen to the Force, and all shall go well. In the absence of certainty, remember that your instinct is all that you can follow."  
  
Obi-Wan glanced at his Master. That was a new lesson. "Yes, Master."  
  
"You understand that, don't you, Obi-Wan? You can't always be certain. Follow your instincts above everything else. The Force will guide you through them. There may be a moment when you lose a fact, or do not know where to turn. Follow your instincts, because your instincts come through the Force."  
  
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, but Qui-Gon raised a hand. "Do not comment on this. Remember it, for it will serve you well." He paused delicately, and reached out to touch Obi-Wan's arm. "Be safe, my Padawan. Do well, and be safe."  
  
_Be safe._ Obi-Wan wanted to latch onto Qui-Gon's arm at that moment and never let go. It truly touched him that he would be leaving the Temple on an unknown transport to an unknown world for the first time without Qui-Gon. Fear arose in him like a snake, but he beat it away. He had done away with the fear by now- he needed to concentrate, to banish it from his thought if he were to succeed.  
  
Obi-Wan reached out and grasped his Master's arm, and they turned to face each other. Without warning, Obi-Wan dropped to a knee in front of his Master, emotion taking him over. "Thank you," he stammered before Qui-Gon could come to his senses and demand his apprentice to raise. "Thank you for your confidence in me. Master, I can't express-"  
  
"Get up!" Qui-Gon demanded, although his eyes were gentle. "Obi-Wan, I will not have you kneel in front of me for thanks I do not deserve." He pulled Obi-Wan to his feet. "I did nothing but guide you. You're acting like you're being Knighted- which you are not, by the way. This is just a step to that point." He gave Obi-Wan a funny look. "I thought you weren't sentimental, Obi-Wan, I really did."  
  
Obi-Wan forced a laugh. He had meant the words he had just said, and it hollowed him how true they seemed. "Master, I must maintain some sense of self, mustn't I?"  
  
"That does not mean you have to fall at my feet," Qui-Gon replied. He suddenly pointed. "I believe that is your transport. Remember you need to get off at Candalas and find your next transport there. You have the arrangements."  
  
They watched his ship slowly descend towards them, its outer covering glinting silver in the sun. When it finally docked, and the male pilot stepped out of the ship to handle procedures, they turned to each other again. This time, Qui-Gon seemed at a pure loss for words, and Obi-Wan could not think of how to put his emotions in the open.  
  
Qui-Gon sighed. "I have said all I need to say. Be safe, Obi-Wan, above all else." He cracked a smile. "It takes time and energy to wear in a new Padawan."  
  
"Don't worry, Master, I'm sure I'll be back soon," Obi-Wan said. He extended his hand, and Qui-Gon took it. "I meant what I said before you stopped me. Thank you."  
  
"Well, then, you're welcome," Qui-Gon said. He stepped away. "May the Force be with you, Padawan."  
  
"May the Force be with you, Master," Obi-Wan said, his voice almost catching. Abruptly he reached down and grabbed his bag, turning as he did so. He stalked towards the ramp, talking quickly to the pilot and boarding. When he reached the door, he turned and looked at the Temple and Qui-Gon one last time, feeling his heart quiver as the thought he would never see either one of them again shot through him.  
  
_Stop thinking like that!_ He scolded himself. _Just stop!_  
  
He turned away and headed inside.  
  
As the ship rose and shot away, Qui-Gon did not move, his eyes fixed on the spot where the ship had disappeared from his view. He did not move for a long time, a tornado of emotions blowing through his insides.  
  
He turned away finally, looking back at the Temple that suddenly seemed so lonely and desolate against a golden background.  
  
_Please let him be safe._

_-----------_

**Stranded Stargazer – **Oops. I seemed to have forgotten my responsibility to this thing. Sorry about that. I guess I took more than the week off. -cackle- Sorry about the wait. Thanks so much for sticking with the story! I really appreciate it.

**moon's shadow AMJ – **New reader! Woot. I'm so glad you found something worth reading in this story. I know what you mean about not finding something good to read a lot of the time, and I'm glad I cleared the problem for you, at least temporarily. Thanks for all the kind words!

**Ivy3 – **To answer your question, yes, Xanatos simply didn't die, although it will be explained in later chapters, and really fleshed out in FAR later chapters. A really big reason I wanted this plot bunny was the interaction between Xanatos and Obi-Wan. I've never written an Xanatos character that isn't pure-cut evil(I drabbled once in a straight evil Xanatos with dire results) and I want to get the feel of the character. Thanks for the comments and joining onto the story.


	5. Part Four

**_Three years ago today a great tragedy hit _****_America_****_ in the form of terrorists' attacks. Although this story has nothing to do with those attacks, nor was it written in remembrance of those lost, I just want to say how much I love my country, and how much I grieve for those lost. By posting this chapter, and proving life does go on, I want to show that the terrorists did NOT complete their goal: to ravage the heart that makes our country great. _**

****

**_"This is a day when all Americans from every walk of life unite in our resolve for justice and peace. America has stood down enemies before, and we will do so this time. None of us will ever forget this day, yet we go forward to defend freedom and all that is good and just in our world."_**

**_- George W. Bush _**

**_…_**

**__****_In memory of those who lost their lives in the attacks on September 11, 2001. _**

****

**_We will never forget. _**

****

_-----------_

**Part Four**

"My name is Korben Hunter," Obi-Wan told his reflection. He winced at the mirror. He did not look like a "hunter." Maybe if he changed it to "hunted" the officials would buy it.

The 'fresher he stood in was small, but it did its purpose. He ran his hand along his freshly cropped hair, fingering the side of his head where his braid should have been. Groaning, he forced his hand away and exited into his room.

The layover on Candalas had gone smoothly, for which he was extremely grateful. Ever since leaving the Temple, he had been in a state of anxiety that had no name. It wasn't fear, not quite… he sat on his cot and decided to banish it from the back of his mind. It was just nervous anticipation.

He fiddled with his fingers, sighing and rubbing at his clothes. After more research on Yanari and the capital city Tanrai, he had found the world to be liberal, which surprised him. They did not accept Jedi, but they allowed their citizens to worship as they pleased or not worship at all, and had a governor for each city. Tanrai, however, had many governors, for it was controlled by the High Council of Yanari. It was the largest city, reaching ten thousands of citizens, and he supposed they needed the ten governors.

However, his clothes were those of that he had seen on the security officials of Coruscant. They all dressed in a wide variety of clothes, but Obi-Wan had already begun constructing his persona by the time he stepped into the marketplace. Korben Hunter, Obi-Wan decided, would be a rough man who had battled his way to his position. He would be a no-nonsense sort of man, and for that he needed clothes that screamed his personality. He had selected tunics of varying degrees of black and dark blue, the material coarse and rough to touch. He wore black gloves, black trousers that, according to the salesman, did not tear nor scuff. His boots were leather and reached up to his knees. His lightsaber was hidden in his right boot. The left held a holster for a blaster and inside was the dagger Qui-Gon had given him.

He lay back on the cot, closing his eyes. He had about another hour before they reached the Yanari air space. His pilot was a rough and tough older Corellian who gave him a very patronizing look as Obi-Wan stepped onto the ship. "I'm making a quick run this day," the Corellian said. "We're stopping at a bunch of planets before we get to your Yanari." He scanned Obi-Wan's clothes. "I hope you're not a Jedi."

Obi-Wan had chuckled nervously, headed to his room, and had not gone out for anything. The trip to Candalas had been a day. The trip from Candalas to Yanari would come to a total of six hours. His muscles felt cramped from sitting so long and staying in one place. He stood again, stretching his limbs.

"My name is Korben Hunter," he told the empty room. He wasn't sure what kind of accent they had on Yanari, if they had any at all. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to hide his. His text docs said he came from Coruscant, and that world was made of so many diverse cultures none would really care if he had an accent or not. The trick, though, was how well he wanted to blend. Taking his accent off and adopting the Yanarian one would take him in… but what if he couldn't manage it?

He decided to step onto the world and feel his way as he went. If they had a manageable tone of voice, he would take it for his own. If not, he would stick it out with his Core World one. It didn't really matter.

He stepped back into the 'fresher. "My name is Korben Hunter!" he told the mirror forcibly. "I am a security official of the Republic." The mirror did not seem impressed. Not quite the reaction he was going for. He tried again. "My name is Korben Hunter."

"MY NAME IS KORBEN HUNTER!" he shouted at the mirror.

The room was quiet. He took solace in the fact and went back to his cot, laying down and closing his eyes. He needed to rest and clear his mind. He knew he should meditate, but he couldn't quite bring himself around to doing it. He should sleep.

Sleep would do him good.

_-----------_

_He was back in the corridor. The same closed doors greeted him; the same evil was in the black air. He reached out a hand and touched the wall, snatching his hand back when he found it ice cold. There seemed to be a fuzzy gray haze around his eyes as he moved down the hall. It obstructed his vision and lulled him into the feeling of sleep. _

_He shook his head and headed towards the door at the end of the corridor. Behind him, he could feel the evil drawing of the red light begin to gather strength. He reached the door, and touched it again. It was cold this time, so icy to the touch he had to pull away. He wanted to kick the door and rattle it with his fists, but it seemed as if that was what the red light _wanted _him to do. Could light have desires and feelings? He wasn't sure. _

_He turned away from the door, this time searching for a way out. The red light approached him slowly, as if taunting him. Sickened, he tried to look past the light, but all he saw was darkness. _

_A crushing blackness that seemed dark enough to touch and light enough to be unreal. _

_-----------_

It was the pounding on the door that awoke him from his cursed sleep. He sprang instantly into motion, heading for the door.

"We're docked!" the Corellian man shouted angrily. "Now get you stinkin' bantha hide up here; I have rules to tell you!"

_Rules?_Shaking the sleep out of his head and trying to purge the nightmare from his mind, he gathered up his kitbag and tossed his datapads and comlink in. He checked the room once more, took a deep breath, and exited the room. The Corellian was waiting for him in the reception lounge, looking very grumpy.

"Hey, kid, hurry up," he said. Obi-Wan quickly stood next to him, being the only passenger left on the ship. "Okay, Yanari has rules. Firstly: if you're a Jedi, you may as well stay on." He gave Obi-Wan a chiding look. "Not that a runt like you would be one." Obi-Wan burned inside, but said nothing. "Secondly: if you're an off-worlder – as I think you are – security is waiting outside to check your creds and such. After that, you're free." He reached over and pushed down the docking ramp. "Now, please, get off my ship."

Obi-Wan quickly strode down the ramp, spotting a single security official waiting for him. He was relieved to see that his hair was close cropped. He wanted to look around more at the docking bay as he left the ship, but the security official grabbed his arm.

"So, you," the man said. He didn't seem to have any accent at all. Obi-Wan decided Korben Hunter would be a flamboyant and sarcastic rough man, and so kept his accent. "Let me see your text docs. What are you doing in Tanrai?"

"Work," Obi-Wan grunted, taking a file from his kitbag. He handed the durasheet to the man. "I'm a security officer."

"Ah," said the man, uninterested. He glanced at Obi-Wan once more, and nodded. "Alright, Mr. Korben Hunter, you're clear all way around. Have a nice stay." He gave Obi-Wan back the sheet and started away without another word.

_Well, that was easy, _Obi-Wan thought as he followed the man's footsteps up the dock. He took the time to observe as he walked. The docking back exited onto a cemented street that extended for many miles on both sides. It was a city. Groundcars shot by quickly and pedestrians walked on the sidewalks. In the distance he saw tall buildings. He guess beyond that would be housing districts and such. Across the street from the docking bay he spotted diners and shops.

He felt through the Force, feeling his way along the many lines and curves that befitted a large city. The atmosphere around him was what he expected: turmoil. It wasn't bad turmoil, though. Turmoil came with a big city. So many citizens and all their problems were bound to build up in the Force. He felt under those feelings, searching for anything unusual. There was nothing out of ordinary that he could find. It seemed wrong somehow.

He stepped onto the sidewalk and hailed a cab. As he threw his things in the back, the female driver looked back at him snidely and asked, "Where to, kid?"

"Where do you think I could find work as a security official?" he asked her in turn. Maybe he should have thought to look at a kiosk first, he thought with a sigh.

"Security building, Official District," the woman said. She moved into traffic, chatting amiably. "Workin' as a cop? Well, that's nifty and grand, but that bunch doesn't have much fun. Now, drivers like me, we get tons of fun. Interestin' fares and the likes. Can't beat that, really. Fun and money. Nothin' in the world that can beat that."

She looked at him in her mirror. "Now, kids like you are way too serious if you want to be security."

"Someone has to," he said without real interest. He was watching people through the windows of the cab. They seemed liberal enough. They were dressed differently, and they certainly had free wills. A small child struggled to get away from her mother and run across the street; a young boy was riding a small swoop-like vehicle and offering to sell toys.

"Yea, I guess that's true," said the driver as she turned onto another street. "But truth be told you cin't really trust them, you know? They're supposed to take care of you, but they end up failing. Some of them don't even do their job. Some of them… they ain't that nice to people they don't much like. You in league with them, though, and they make you happy. You fight 'em… and you lose. They gain up on you like no one's business."

"Really?" Obi-Wan asked, in real interest now.

"Aye," she answered. She smiled sadly. "But you in league with them, and you're an offlander… I'm sure they'll like you. They like making offlanders welcome. Try to show us commoners that even offlanders better than us. But you needa be warned, you. Really. Kid like you… how old, kid?"

"Twenty-three," he answered, hopeful for more answers.

"Look younger," she said, even more sadly. "They like 'em young… impressionable. Me, I'm nearing old age. After thirty-five they send you to work on Finistra. Hate that place, I do. Terrible, terrible. Criminals… if you got good job, they don't purge. But us riffraff… they don't take much liking to. But you… they keep cops. They like cops, them. Security building!"

She pulled up to a red squat building and stopped the groundcar. "Sorry I talked too much, kid," she said. "But you need to be warned, you do. Don't let them send you out. You too young."

He wanted to ask her what purging was, but she had pushed a button that opened his door. He shuffled out. "Miss, may I ask your name?"

She looked instantly flustered. "My name, kid? My name's Ked Sol. Why you ask?"

He shrugged. "I may need a cab someday. You have a comlink frequency?"

Stunned at her good fortune for getting a regular, she only nodded and rattled it off to him. He stored it in his memory and took out a roll of credits. He handed her the fare, wishing her well. He would call her later tonight, and ask for a chat. She seemed… whole to him. Pure and trustworthy. His gut instinct told him she was a friend, and he listened to it.

He stepped into the building, pulling out the file with his credentials. He looked at them and blinked. His age was listed as twenty-eight. He bit back the groan on the tip of his tongue and cursed himself. _One mistake! _He forced his mind to think. _One mistake, and it wasn't even that important. _

He walked to the front desk where a young man was stationed. "I was wondering where I could make an appointment for a job."

The clerk raised an eyebrow. "Security work, I assume? For an offlander?"

He made himself bristle at the comment. Korben Hunter was not a man to be reckoned with. "I'm in the security building, ain't I?"

The clerk blinked at him, and smiled. "Excuse my rudeness, sir. It wasn't my place." He took a datapad and began to scroll through it. "Let me see… you probably don't know the process. You're to fill out an application listing credentials and the likes. After you turn it in, I'll call in to Respected Warel and see when he's ready." The clerk took a datasheet and handed it to Obi-Wan. "If you fill it out now, I can check if he'll see you this afternoon."

Obi-Wan took the application with a smile. "Thank you," he said and headed to the plush seats that littered the reception room. The room was small with a floor so shiny he could his reflection. There were two corridors. One obviously led to offices and brightly lit. The other was dark, and he could hear no voices.

He quickly filled out the application, painstakingly spelling his name out K-O-R-B-E-N H-U-N-T-E-R. The clerk was smiling when he got there. "Ah, Mr. Hunter," he said, looking at the application. "Respected Warel will see you now. He is, however, very busy, so I suggest you state your cause quickly."

"I'll do that," Obi-Wan muttered as the man led him down the darkened hall to a door at the end of the corridor. The room they entered was plain, the walls wooden and a musky brown. The only things in the room were a large desk and a file pushed up against the wall next to the desk. And, of course, the man sitting behind the desk.

He was an older man with a heavily lined face and sad amber eyes. He motioned the clerk to leave and Obi-Wan to sit. The chair was hard against his back, and he wanted to sag against it in custom Korben Hunter fashion, but stood straight and hard-faced. He looked at the man with a neutral expression.

"Ah," the man Obi-Wan took to be Warel said. "Korben Hunter of Coruscant? Hmm… an offlander… haven't had one of those in a few good years…" Obi-Wan stayed silent, as he suspected the man wanted him to do. "We don't exactly have a position right now… but you're very qualified… a bit overqualified, actually." He looked at Obi-Wan strangely. "Why did you leave Nutu if you were head of security? Anything wrong?"

"Nah," Obi-Wan replied with a wave of his hand. "Change of scenery. Nutu was a world on the way to bankruptcy. I wasn't going to stay for that."

"I see," Warel murmured, eyes back on the application. "You can give me references?"

"Yes, I can," Obi-Wan said, beginning to shuffle through his file.

"Oh, that's fine and good," Warel said. "Let me see…" He accessed his computer and hummed thoughtfully. Obi-Wan forced himself not to fiddle with his fingers as he waited the long, tense moment that Warel took to search whatever he was searching. "I'm trying to think of where we could use you, but I'm afraid you'd do well anywhere."

"What spots do you have open?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Oh, offlander, sorry," Warel said without regret. "We've got many staff jobs if you're interested, although I can't promise you won't be shuffled around – being new and an offlander and all. We've got the Homicide Division, the regulars, the Elites, the Uppers-"

"Elites and Uppers?" Obi-Wan growled.

"The Elites are out primary group of defense if a person acts up. They're first on scene, and such. Uppers are after them. Basically, they take care of threats on demand, whereas regulars mainly take care of routine, out of the way stuff. We've also got the Crimes Against the State office, the Court trial, the-"

"Crimes against the state, huh?" Obi-Wan asked without any interest. "What do you do there?"

"Take care of crimes that are deliberately set against the officials and laws of Yanari," Warel answered. "When such a crime takes place, you're to jail and collect the evidence that is needed for such a conviction. It's boring work, I say. Not many crimes against the state these days. Haven't had one since… that man a while back… it was about a year ago?"

"Boring and routine?" Obi-Wan said with a twisted smile. "After being shot at by trained Nutan snipers and renegade mutineers… I'll take the boring and routine, sir."

Warel finally showed emotion in his surprise. "You're sure about that?"

"Why not? I can switch out if I hate it, can't I? Be an Elite or something of the sort?"

Warel shrugged. "Yeah. I wanted you to be an Elite… Armed Forces Academy would do well now and then, I suppose."

"If you need me," Obi-Wan said without elaboration or emotion.

"I'll call you then, eh?" Warel said as he began to sign the forms. "Well, CATS is down the hall." He handed Obi-Wan a small datasheet. "Give that to the clerk, he'll show you the way. Pleasure having you on the force, Hunter. I'm sure you'll do well."

Obi-Wan smiled and shook Warel's hand. Warel was closing the door when he called out. "Oh, Hunter, I forgot… I'm Respected Warel, by the way. Head of the Security for Yanari."

"Oh, I knew, sir, I knew," Obi-Wan said with a slight grin as he headed down the dark corridor.

-----------

Obi-Wan left the Security building with instructions to be at the office tomorrow at 0730 sharp. The head of CATS was a female name Venira. She was a straight forward older woman who gave him one look and snorted into her hand. She led him to a small cubicle and waved a hand around pointedly. "You breathe, live, and eat here when you're on duty," she told him. "Your world is this place when you're here. Got that?"

He had answered with a resounding, "yes, ma'am!" and had left on a high note. She seemed to like him, which was as good as he could get. He hailed a taxi and headed for the housing district. He had opted on not calling Ked. He would possibly meet her later tonight, and didn't want to take her away from fares.

The housing district was about two dozen miles away from the Security Building, which he found extremely annoying. A cab fare everyday would wipe out his credits sooner or later, although the account he was on would be filled regularly by the Council. He should probably get around to buying a hopperbike sooner or later.

He selected a modest apartment building for his use. His room consisted of a 'fresher, a kitchen, a living area, and a bedroom along with a cot. He tossed his kitbag on the cot and lolled onto it, head falling into his arms.

His first hours on Yanari, as far as he could tell, had been a success.

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**AN: **I know, I lied. I hereby dub myself the Procrastination Master. In my defense, all I can say is school is hectic. Although the fact this chapter has been written for the last two months or so shatters my defense. Blah.

**Janeta**** siri: **Welcome to the story, and sorry for the wait. Thanks for the comments.

**Wrightergurl**Thank you, and also welcome.

**Obiwanfan**This is random, but do I know you from somewhere? –ponders- Anyhow, thanks, and all shall be revealed in due time.

**Moon's shadow: **Yeah, sorry again about the wait, but thanks for your wonderful comments. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder…


End file.
